"Well, then, I will acknowledge openly," answered Charlotte, with some impatience, "my feeling is against this plan. I have an instinct which tells me no good will come of it."
"You women are invincible in this way," replied Edward. "You are so sensible that there is no answering you; then, so affectionate, that one is glad to give way to you; full of feelings, which one cannot wound; and full of forebodings, which terrify one."
"I am not superstitious," said Charlotte: "and I care nothing for these dim sensations, merely as such; but, in general, they are the result of unconscious recollections of happy or unhappy consequences, which we have experienced as following on our own or others' actions. Nothing is of greater moment, in any state of things, than the intervention of a third person. I have seen friends, brothers and sisters, lovers, husbands and wives, whose relation to each other, through the accidental or intentional introduction of a third person, has been altogether changed,—whose whole moral condition has been inverted by it."
"That may very well be," replied Edward, "with people who live on, without looking where they are going; but not, surely, with persons who have attained to self-consciousness."
"Self-consciousness, my dearest husband," insisted Charlotte, "is not a sufficient weapon. It is very often a most dangerous one for the person who bears it. And, out of all this, at least so much seems to arise, that we should not be in too great a hurry. Let me have a few days to think: don't decide."
"As the matter stands," returned Edward, "however many days we wait, we shall still be in too great a hurry. The arguments for and against are all before us; all we want is the conclusion; and, as things are, I think the best thing we can do is to draw lots."
"I know," said Charlotte, "that, in doubtful cases, it
